Flashes
by dudeaga
Summary: Short Stories, Drabbles, and the like, depicting life during the times of the Sailor Senshi.


(A/N No, I'm not homophobic. Or conservative. I just enjoy writing little rants for comedic effect. I hope you enjoy a more gritty look at the Sailor Moon Universe, because I find the topic's contrast to the source material to be hilarious. The subjects discussed, however, aren't.)

I suppose the general nature of certain people don't change, no matter where they are.

Gulf War-

"I ain't no faggot leftist sonovabitch! I'm a goddamn US Marine! I eat little fucking terrorist children for breakfast! I don't give a fuck! I just don't give two shits!"

-Corporal Schmaucer on the morals of the Iraq War.

Relief Deployment to Japan

"50 feet tall? 50 fucking feet tall? I'm a fucking US Marine, and I'll shove those city-leveling tails right back up their fucking asshole! Marines ain't nobody's bitch, we make OTHERS our bitch, whether it be some Saddam's gay-ass army or little bitches from outer space or wherever the fuck they came from."

-Sargeant Schmaucer on whether he was afraid of the 50 foot monsters, demons or "whatever sci-fi writers cream themselves about" terrorizing Japan.

Being an experienced member of the strongest army in the world certainly made one feel like a badass. And by all traditional senses of the word, Schmaucer was. Irritating? At times, yes. Offensive? Politcally incorrect, but not a racist. And reliable? Certainly. It's what he trained for, and it was what he was deployed for. As one of the US Marines deployed by America to help defend Japan against hostile invaders, he was a trained badass.

Not that most Marines aren't, but Schmaucer was even more badass then them. This competence earned him the monkier of "The Boot," one that he wore with pride. Which was why when he trusts someone, his team trusts someone.

This was precisely why nobody questioned Lieutenant Dole on his orders to deploy to a remote, agricultural area of Japan.

"Small village down south went dark. Probably just an equipment failure, but in the sake of protecting my career and your lives, we should prepare for a Search and Destroy. Gear up, we're heading out in a couple."

Everyone was quite eager to get out of the cramped Humvees (Search and Destroy Missions required equipment to fight a small war), and had no shortage of energy in securing a perimeter.

"Doesn't look like any movement, Sarge. Pretty damn shady if you ask me. How does it look through the NVG's?"

"Jesus…Corporal, get ready to pull on your big boy pants, because it's time to rock. We got what looks to be Unidentified Hostiles, and a house of fire. Assume they cleared out the village and killed the inhabitants. I'm gonna sitrep, you get the rest of the team."

Corporal "Kraut" was a Designated Automatic Rifleman, and as such was the Second in Command of Fireteam Alpha. He quickly tapped the Private First Class (commonly abbreviated PFC.) Rifleman "Kid," and woke up the Assistant Automatic Rifleman "Bitch."

To gain a better understanding of how a fireteam works, you must realize a few things about how they work. The Rifleman acts as a squad scout ("Kid"), the Designated Automatic Rifleman ("Kraut") acts as suppressive fire. The Assistant Automatic Rifleman ("Bitch") assists the Designated Automatic Rifleman. Finally, the Team Leader ("Boot") leads the fireteam, while also serving as the grenadier. A typical squad contains 2+ fireteams, which makes up a Platoon, which makes up an infantry company, and so on.

"Let's go, we're scouting the north side of the village. Kid, you're on point. Keep your balls up, this enemy isn't some sand blowing Al-Qaeda cocksucker. Grab the AT4 and roll out."

The streets were cramped, forcing Fireteam Alpha to continue on foot without the support or protection of a Humvee. In a testament to the skill of the US Marines, the initial stages of the advance was rock solid. Street by street was checked and cleared without any problem. No mistakes- pure precision. But in keeping with tradition, bullets eventually flew.

Reports weren't lying about 50 foot tall monsters attacking Japan- but that wasn't the full truth. Most often it was smaller monsters, humanoids and the like terrorizing the general populace.

And it was one of those that was occupying the village's plaza.

"Jesus, look at that ugly sonovabitch! Ripped straight out of some animated Japanese porno!"

"Kid, stop talking about your fap material and KILL THE MOTHERFUCKER!"

War doesn't necessarily have to be dramatic. In stark contrast to most popular media, most firefights with modern armed forces are either short, clean affairs, or shorter, dirty ones. One burst, one kill. And when Marines lay down fire on an enemy with a scary reputation and unknown endurance, they light them up.

2 shots to the neck to killed the enemy, according to the coroner's reports. 150 rounds along with grenade shrapnel were found in the monster's body.

"…"

"That was incredibly anti-climatic."

"OpFor eliminated, area clear. Over."

"Copy that, Fireteam Alpha. Over."

Short, clean and simple. Nothing dramatic, just another quick, successful firefight.

The more difficult part of war is the consequences.

"Jesus Christ, get the Doc the fuck over here! He's bleeding the fuck out!"

Generally, evil monsters that represent malice, hatred, and other nasty emotions leave destruction, damage, and comparatively nasty aftereffects in the area they occupy. This was no exception.

"Severed arm, both legs ripped clean off- it's a fucking nightmare! Get me-"

As one could imagine, a burning house is an obvious sign that something has gone wrong. There isn't much else to describe that something is wrong than an innocent family caught up in a senseless slaughter, cliche as it may be.

The newly amputated began yelling frantically, which called the attention of a translator.

"He's got two kids and a wife in the burning building! Jesus, we gotta get them."

"Guess that's our call." Guess who.

Perhaps some of the more exciting and dangerous things in life don't have to involve bullets flying at you, mused Boot as he ran inside a burning house.

"I'm going upstairs, check the 1st floor Kid," yelled Boot as he ran upstairs. The flames licked at his sides, the smoke clogged his airway and fogged his brain. But people enter burning buildings with a purpose, and Boot would not leave without fulfilling his.

The cries of a child alerted Boot to his objective.

"Okaa-san! Okaa-san!"

Boot was there in a flash.

Unconscious mother, and two children. Boy and Girl. Reaction was immediate. Pick up the mother on his back, hold the hands of the kids as he ran down the collapsing building.

The smoke increasingly degraded Boot's capacity to preform. The adrenaline and natural survival skills kicked in and took over-and gave him the final push necessary.

Exhausted, Boot collapsed to the ground. As the medics came over to assess the situation, he only had one thing to say.

"Just another day…"

He'd wake up 20 hours later, and soon return to his normal schedule of bitching about damn near everything.


End file.
